Karma
by silverxxprincess
Summary: Dramione. Draco gets Hermione pregnant; can they learn to cope with the trials of pregnancy together?
1. Chapter 1

"_Draco, please, I just need some time!" her voice got quieter. "I'm not sure if we'll work."_

Those were the words that broke me. Those words tore my heart out. Those were the words that caused me to be here, sitting on the edge of this building. No, I was not drunk; I was not crazy; I was simply heart broken. My love for the one girl, the one woman, who I thought had loved be back, was still thriving, even though she loved me not. _She loves me not_, I thought to myself, _how ironic._ The note in my hand was basically the last thing holding me to Earth, tying me down. It had arrived by owl this morning:

_Draco_

_Please, please, please give me another chance. Can we talk? Tonight, at my house? _

_Thanks,_

_Hermione._

Should I give her another chance? Or not? I don't even know anymore. All I know is that I want to push myself off this building, no magic involved, and live to see her face twisted in pain as she stares down at my broken body, my broken soul, from the window of her house. Yes, the building I am currently contemplating upon is the building across from her house.

I close my eyes as a blessed wind picks up and gently caresses my face, much like her hand used to do a mere seconds before we became intimate. Thinking of all those times almost makes me want to cry. We showed our love for each other in many ways, and actually making love was probably our favorite way. I can almost feel her light fingers making trails across my neck, her nails gently scraping my skin, making the goose bumps rise-

"Draco?" The voice of my angel whispers quietly. I must be imagining this. It can't be true. This wasn't how it was planned. I sigh, and reply, "Yes?"

"What exactly are you, erm, doing here?"

"Contemplating my death."

"Oh." A quiet exhale of held breath issues behind me, and I turn ever so slightly as to rest my knees against my chest.

"Draco, I have to tell you something. Please come down," The little corner of my brain that occasionally comes out to voice its opinion crawls out. I get down from the ledge, and sit against it. "What is it?" I admit it, my voice comes out a little harsher than was intended.

"I'm pregnant."

--

"What did you say?" I can't help that my voice comes out cracked; if I heard that right, she just said she was pregnant. Maybe it isn't mine. Maybe she's just informing me.

"I. Am. Pregnant."

"And this concerns me how...?" Evidently those pregnancy hormones were kicking in early; true, she didn't look the least bit pregnant, but her face started to get red, and her fists balled up at her sides. "Draco Malfoy. I am pregnant and it concerns you SINCE YOU ARE THE FATHER!"

Ah. So _that's_ how it concerns me.


	2. Chapter 2

After getting Hermione to calm down to a reasonable level, I decided that it was not time to kill myself; she obviously needed my help, and it's difficult to abandon someone when they're kind of carrying your child. So I walked her down the few flights of steps to the ground, and continued to chaperone as I walked her to her house. I paused at the door, leaned against it for support, and asked quietly,"Hermione, can I please come in? I think we have some things to talk about."

She smiled wryly, and rolled her beautiful brown eyes. "Yes, I believe we do have a _few_ things to talk about."

Leading me to her sitting room, she gracefully flopped onto the cushy sofa positioned in front of a quaint fireplace. I sat down in the chair next to the sofa, and put my feet up on the table, dismissing the glare sent toward my feet.

"So how, erm, how far along are you?" Yes, it was a bit awkward, given our history; but she was still my angel, my sunshine, my goddess. So awkwardness didn't matter a tad bit.

"Almost five weeks," She said, smiling a bit, "So the baby'll be due around...sometime in December." She was smiling widely now, her perfect teeth shining brightly. There was another silence.

Me being a guy, I couldn't help it; her being pregnant didn't matter. My eyes raked over her body, and I could tell she was still as fit as she was about five weeks ago. Her breasts were nice and perky under her shirt, and her jeans fit her perfectly. Gods, she really **was** perfect. And then realization dawned on me: this perfect being was carrying my child. My child was growing inside that beautiful creature. I couldn't help myself.

"Hermione?" My voice was gentle, questioning; I needed to hear her say yes. "Hermione, can I, erm, feel the baby?" She thought I was kidding. She started laughing that tinkling laugh, the one that abrutely stopped when she caught the longing in my face.

"Are you serious Draco? There's not too much there. Just a small blob."

"Please?"

She nods slowly, giving me permission. I walked over, kneeled down in front of her, and reached out a hand, resting it on her flat, warm belly. Joy overcame me at that moment, and before either of us knew it, I was kissing her. Mhmm, how much I had missed those sweet lips.

"Draco, we shouldn't--" I was having none of that.

"Please, please angel. You turn me on so much."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: i know this is a tad bit confusing, but please just hang in there. i'll explain it in the next chapter. Sorry about last chapter, not too long. thank you for reading & reviewing!! **

**p.s. sorry about the format of previous chapter, didn't go as well as expected. --silverxxprincess**

--

"Draco, I really don't know. What if it hurts the baby?"

"It's not going to. You said it yourself, it's just a blob."

It's amazing how we can have this conversation as I'm nibbling on her neck, rolling the hem of her shirt between my fingers. Just like old times. Before it all happened.

I hear her sigh, and I know that I've won. She'll succumb to me, just like she always does. Did. Did, not does. I shake my head to clear my memories, then lift her up carefully, climbing the steps slowly, ascending to the room that was always my favorite: her bedroom.

The door is kicked open, and I gently lower her onto the bed. She's finally realized that this will happen, whether she wants it now or not. Reaching her arms above her head, raising both her shirt and her breasts, she cocks an eyebrow at me seductively.

"Yes, Miss Granger?"

The only signal I get is a small beckon. I answer. Tearing her shirt off, caressing her lips, eyes, cheeks and neck with my warm, swollen lips. I hear a small moan as my hand whispers over her stomach, her beautifully sculpted stomach, my fingertips tickling the skin riddled with goosebumps. My hand starts to drift toward the waistline of her jeans, and I fiddle with the button while my other hand plays with the hairs at the nape of her lovely neck.

Even though I'm on top of her, I purposely shift my weight so as to not position it on her precious stomach, the home of my child. The thought makes me even more aroused than I already am by her being, and I moan as I feel small hands slip under my shirt, clutching my body tight, creating a field of goosebumps on my arms.My shirt is somewhere on the floor by now, as well as hers. Our bodies are flipped as she climbs on top of me, straddling my arousal, bending down and touching my chest with her lips. The skin burns with fiery passion after her lips leave the spot, and I groan as she leads a trail of kisses down to the top of my jeans.

Somehow--I'm not quite sure how--she undoes the button and zipper of my pants with her mouth, then takes them off.

"Hermione," I gasp, too turned on to talk, "you're wearing too many clothes."

She smirks, then rolls over to take off her pants. She comes back to me, and we continue to make out while I play with the straps of her bra, snapping them against her skin, hearing her moan every time the strap hits sweaty skin.

I free her majestic breasts, and watch them fall every time she exhales deeply, and rise when she inhales. Gods, she truely is beautiful; as if she were a breathing statue, created by something, something not human. Lost in my thoughts, I inhale sharply when I feel my black boxers being pulled down, and the cool of the air on my manhood is exhilarating, but nothing compared to the feeling I am experiencing now; her mouth is around me, gently sucking, licking, tickling.

"Oh Hermione, oh yes..."

It feels so good, too good, as if I was about to die and this was the last I'd ever experience of life. More and more of myself is swallowed by her lips, oh those _lips_...amazing. She release me, only to work in the saliva her tongue has left behind, massaging me with her hands, running a nail under.

"Mhmm, oh yes, hell yeah, oh _Hermione_..."

I can't take it. I need to be inside her right now. I need it with a passion. I need _her_, all of her. I roughly grab her, hoist her body up, and viciously rip a hole in her panties. I growl at her, and lift her up above me, kissing her stomach, watching while she closes her eyes and touches her stomach lightly.

"_Draco_."

It's just a whisper, but it's all I need to go mad with lust. I lower her down, thrusting to meet her, to get inside her. I smirk as she gasps and then moans, making me thrust deeper and harder. I let her control me to a point, yet still give her a general direction of what to do. I play with her breasts as they bounce, and constantly sit up completely to kiss her stomach, making her shiver. I trace a finger up and down her body, stopping at her stomach and leaving my hand there. Evidently that was what she was waiting for: she shivers once more, and I can feel her whole body clench, feel myself being squeezed inside of her, which puts _me_ over the edge.

I shout her name loudly, and feel my body release into her, a great amount, as she collapses on top of me, heaving and panting.

We stay like this for a bit, and I gently slide out of her and roll over, opening my arms to invite her in. She snuggles up close, laying a hand on my chest as her eyes close. The blankets float up around us, and envelop us in warmth as we each drift off into other worlds.


	4. Chapter 4

There's something about waking up in the morning, after finding out the woman you love is pregnant with your child, and then proceeding to make hot love to her that kinda makes you want to smile. Like I am now. I can't help but gaze at her with wonder, wonder that a creature as selfless and with such a big heart as her would carry my child. I mean, sure, she didn't really have a choice; things happen. But coming back to me, after what had happened...it was somewhat peaceful.

"Draco?"

My name came from the mess of hair and blankets next to me, curled up in a ball. I had to laugh at the sight of her, hair standing up, sleep still evident on her face, a confused smile joining.

"What? Is there something on my face, or something...?"

I kept laughing, laughing simply because I was so happy, laughing for the joy that she brought me. Evidently Hermione did not think it as joyous as I, for she rolled her eyes and got out of bed. My laughter decreased, and watched as she stretched, watched the muscles in her back and legs flex quickly. I closed my eyes. _You had sex last night. You don't need it right now._ Then I saw her hand rest on her flat stomach, and all the lust disappeared, replaced with the previous happiness, the happiness and joy and excitement that I guess comes with bringing a new life into the world. She sighs quite deeply, and walks to the bathroom. Moments later I hear the shower start, and fall asleep hearing quiet notes from a song drift upward.

--

"Dracoooooo," her voice sings out,"time to wake up! It's almost ten," she states, noting my bleary glance at the clock. I sigh, somewhat disappointed to get out of bed. Dragging my body out, I shower, then trudge downstairs, wakening a bit at the wondrous smell of coffee.

I pour a cup, then lean against the counter, watching her, sipping slowly. The coffee fills me with warmth, and I close my eyes to take it in. I hear an angry "Humph!" from the living room, and open my eyes to see Hermione running her hands through her hair angrily.

"What's wrong baby?"

She looks up, glares, glances down to the papers in front of her, sighs once more, then puts the quill down. She rubs her ears, a habit she does when quite frustrated. I'm not sure if it's with me, or if it's with something else. Curiosity takes over, and I walk to the sofa, plop down next to her, and start to rub her bare thigh in a comforting manner. She closes her eyes and leans back.

"What exactly are you doing? Starting a business? Never knew you were one for paperwork..." My attempt at humor is apparently unappreciated, for she pushes my hand away and starts to gather the papers.

"I'm attempting to fix some things, balance my finances...a baby isn't cheap, you know. We need to start saving money for food, clothes, diapers..."

"'We'?"

"Why yes. I plan on moving in next week."

Those words bring a huge smile to my face, and it spreads to hers as well.

"I love you, Hermione. I never stopped."

Her smile drops a bit, until she's biting her lip guiltily.

"Draco, I never stopped either. I just needed some time to find myself. I wasn't sure if we were going to work out, I mean I couldn't see us like this...we hated each other in school," she adds pathetically.

I know she's at the end of her reasons; her reasons, many reasons, why we 'couldn't work out'. It was bullshit. She didn't want to be with me, didn't like me. That's all she had to say. Not make a huge deal about it, which got me worked up, which caused us to fight, which caused her to say those fatal words.

_"It's over, Draco." Her voice was quiet, yet screaming loud at the same time. Her words were knives, thrust deeper into my heart with each passing breath. _

_"Why? Let me change. Please give me a chance. Hermione, please, don't leave me. Please don't." _

_I was begging. I **needed** her; couldn't she see that? Couldn't she hear how my heart sped up at the simple sound of her voice, see how my breath caught in my throat at the sight of her? _No, no no no no no no,_ my mind chanted, _this can't be true. It's a trick, a sick trick._ Trying to reason with myself was no use; I knew she no longer wanted me. We'd been together since we were each 18, going back to school the year after Potter defeated the Dark Lord. The world was safe, and muggle borns were accepted as a whole by the wizarding world. We found a comfort in each other, so many similarities. Both of us were now 20, and it was the beginning of March. Spring was finally arriving, and we had decided to go on a walk that evening. The silence was painful; we always had things to talk about, so why not now? That's when it hit me: she wants to break up with me. I know it. By then I was trying to convince myself otherwise, but when she sat on a bench, and moved away from me, I knew it. I was braced for it, but when it hit I broke. I had cried, I had begged, I had screamed. Nothing. She had looked at me, and saw me as some pathetic mewling creature. I knew she did. I could see it in her face. We didn't see each other for five more weeks; yesterday was the first day since then we had had contact._

"Hermione, I know you didn't. I know you still love me, and I will always love you, no matter how many times you hurt me."

She smiled at that, and sat back down on the sofa, leaning against me. I breathed in her scent, and smiled; right now, everything was perfect. And in nine months, everything would get even better.

**A/N: please review; tell me what you'd like to read, or see Hermione do, or hear Draco say. please, critique is always welcome with wide arms. **


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed with ideas for the story. it's been a big help. i usually update every night, but i've been having some writers block. i will be holding a contest for the name of hermione and draco's baby. boy and girl names are welcome! thanks sooo much you guys  
--silverxxprincess**

I am abruptly woken in the morning by a loud _splash_ and a sigh coming from the bathroom as Hermione sinks to the floor. She has had morning sickness almost every day since the day after she told me she was pregnant. Right now, she is almost ten weeks; two months and two weeks. She was slightly irritable, mostly from the loss of sleep due to loss of appetite. She still wasn't showing; it was dissapointing. I mean, I knew she was pregnant, but I wanted to see it with my own eyes. I was greedy; I wanted to hold my baby already, hear its inhale of breath. I wanted nine months to be over by now.

"Draaaaco," I heard Hermione moan, "I neeeed some, some toaasst, pleease." Normally, I wouldn't do that; I'd get someone to bring her toast, just like how it used to be in my home. But now, with her basically unable to go anywhere without puking her guts out, I decided it was fine.

Balancing the tray in one hand, a glass of juice and the paper in the other, I thought of how much they both meant to me. Hermione and the baby. How I would die for them, jump in front of a spell or the odd killing devices Hermione called bullets. I shook my head of such unpleasant thoughts, and glanced down at the Daily Prophet before I got to the top of the steps. And froze. **Malfoy Scandal Revealed! **screamed at me from the front page. _What scandal? What could this be about? _Multiple questions circled my mind, but I cleared my thoughts as I got to the bathroom.

"Hermione? Everything okay?"

She weakly rose her head off the floor, nodded once, then placed her cheek against the cool tile. Something seemed wrong.

"'Mione? You sure?"

She looked up at me again, and I realized her eyes weren't focusing in on me; they seemed to go off in different directions. I frowned, then dropped to a knee and felt her forehead, snatching my hand away at once. She was burning hot.

"Hermione. I-I think something's wrong."

My voice was shaking. _No, no, no, no, don't let anything be wrong. Maybe I'm still sleeping. It's a dream, just a dream. _Oh hell, who was I kidding? This was real. Something was wrong with her, and I had no idea what.

"Come on Hermione, we're taking you to St. Mungo's," I whispered into her hair as I walked her to the fireplace, grabbed a handful of Floo powder and tossed it into the fireplace, "Everything's going to be fine; don't worry." I closed my eyes, stepped into the fire, and said, "St. Mungo's." and held tight to Hermione as she slumped against me.

--

As soon as we set foot in St. Mungo's, a healer came running up to us.

"How can I help you sir?" As if the unconscious body in my arms wasn't proof enough.

"Please help her, somethings wrong, she's ten weeks pregnant, I don't know what happened, she was throwing up, she's burning u--"

"Oh. Okay sir, we'll take care of her immediately. Brunswick! I need help!" Thank goodness she interrupted me in the middle of my babbling; Hermione would have never been taken care of otherwise. I watched as they Hovered her onto a small cot without legs, and ran up the stairs, sparks shooting out of their wands. Slightly shaken, I sank into a chair to wait, and hope for the best, then glanced to the small table next to me. Again, the headline of the Prophet glared up at me. No picture, just the headline. I sighed, and pushed it away; there were more important matters at hand.


	6. Chapter 6

_Ow. _There_ was that cramp_, I thought to myself, bending down to rub my leg. I've been pacing in the waiting room of St. Mungo's for about an hour and a half now, and I was starting to wonder when there would be a cramp. You'd think I would be worried about Hermione and the baby; yes, I was, but I knew that I would have been told if something was wrong. So I turned my attention to the less important; and now that I had to sit, I could look at the article in the blasted Prophet.

_Lucius Malfoy, 47, of Wiltshire, was found out to be cheating on his wife, Narcissa Malfoy, 46. A source tells us that the reason was unknown, but yet the confusion is still evident; why did it happen? The name of the woman has not been released at this time. This affair has been going on for about a year, say sources, and Narcissa knew absolutely nothing of it. She has been keeping a low profile, renting a flat in London for now. They plan to divorce soon. No word yet on son Draco's reaction.  
**Cont. pg 4C**_

Whoa. This was a surprise. Honestly, I should probably be more concerned; my father was doing other things with another woman. But I'm not; I'm not even surprised. The bastard couldn't care less about the pain he inflicted on his family. My mother...well, I'd deal with her when I had time. I put my head in my hands, and closed my eyes.

Everything was perfect; why has this gone so wrong? Hermione was sick, Gods know how bad, I had no idea if my baby had any chances of surviving, my family was being torn apart..._It's too much. Just leave now, leave her here, leave your troubles, _a sick voice whispered in my mind. I shook my head to clear the voice. No. I was **not** going to leave Hermione, even if it did make everything better; she was my life now. I was nothing without her. Once again, I placed my head into my hands and gently started to massage my eyelids.

"Mr...?

"Malfoy. Draco Malfoy." The same Healer was back, flinching at my name, obviously connecting it to my parent's scandal in the paper next to me.

"Mr. Malfoy, your wife is now stable. She'll have to rest for a few weeks, and I wouldn't advice much lifting or heavy work probably until the baby is born. Um," she stuttered, her eyes shifting around, "we're not exactly sure what is wrong with her. We think it's something with the baby, but it's too early to do any spells or scans on the child, so we're not sure. All we know is that we've never seen this before." The last bit came out quietly.

"She's not my wife," I said faintly, ecstatic that she was okay, not even concerned about the odd diagnosis.. "She's my girlfriend."

I almost took that back as soon as I said it. At hearing the relation of Hermione to me, the Healer's eyes darkened slightly; I could see the thoughts swirling around in her head: _rotten bastard, just like his father, he'll leave her once the baby's born, probably before..._

"Can I see her?" I wanted to see with my own eyes that she was fine, not just take some Healer's words for it. Said Healer nodded, and turned briskly on her heal, marching down the hallway.

--

I had no idea what I would see when I walked into the room. I took a deep breath, and stepped inside.

Hermione was lying on the bed, her face turned toward me, breathing slowly. She looked as if she was sleeping, quite peaceful and calm. I walked over, and knelt next to the bed.

"Hermione?" I said quietly, not sure if she would respond. To my suprise, her eyes flew open, and fixed on my face

"Hey you," she said, yawning quietly. A sleeping potion was probably the cause of her tiredness, yet it took nothing away from her beauty.

"Hey. Feeling better?" She smiled, and I almost died. _That smile. _I smiled back at her, stood up, kissed her eyelids as they closed, and sat down, listening to the murmur of "Yes, much better..." before she drifted off.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: i really don't want to be like those authors who write stories but then demand reviews, but i really like reviews from my readers. tell me what you want to see happen in this story and i'll try my best to make it happen. how do you like the story so far? does it make sense? what should i change? all criticism is welcome.**

Hermione was going home today. After a few days in St. Mungo's, they decided she was fine, but advised her to stay in bed for a week to make sure nothing bad happened. She really needed to get home; the hospital-like smell was getting to her. Oddly enough, none of the Healers could figure out what had happened with her. It wasn't a miscarriage, and the baby was fine. At least Hermione wasn't hurt. That was all that mattered.

I got Hermione dressed and primped, and stepped out of the room, hoping we wouldn't be back for at least six more months. I Flooed us back home, and put Hermione to bed. I regretted it instantly.

"DRACO! I NEED THE PROPHET!"

I gritted my teeth, reminding myself that she was pregnant; it was hormones. She wasn't being a complete bitch for no reason. Yes, I love her, but right now I wanted to perform a Silencing Charm and just relax without having my name called every five minutes. I think she was taking the 'stay in bed' part a bit too literal. I almost had to carry her to the bathroom, and was demanded to stand outside the door in case something happened. What could honestly happen while she was in the bathroom? She runs out of toilet paper?

"Coming Hermione!" I mumbled to myself all the way up the stairs, but stopped when I saw what she was doing.

I had put the bed next to the window seat, so if she needed to, she could slide off the bed and sit on the seat, and just look outside. Well, there she was now, head turned to the outside world, one hand on her stomach, the other resting on her neck. Her silk robe was lazily waving around her, and her dark curls shifted slightly with the wind. I quietly walked out, grabbed the camera, and silently took a picture. This was beautiful. It was amazing. Wow.

I coughed, and Hermione turned around, smiling.

"Hey. Sorry about before, hormones..." She offered another smile, and I almost disappeared into a pool of jelly.

"So...how are you feeling now? Better, I hope?" She nodded, and leaned against the wood panelling of the window, closing her eyes. I marvelled at how she could find peace at the most hectic times. Rolling across the bed, I sat against the other panel, taking her feet into my hands as I settled. I started rubbing small circles into the heels of her feet, and then spoke up.

"Hermione?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm thinking about going to see my mother today. Are you going to be okay with that?"

She nodded again, and crossed her arms tighter around her belly. We sat like this for a few more minutes, then I leaned over, kissed her forehead, and said goodbye; it was time to see my mother.

--

I knocked on the door, wondering how my mother would receive me; would it be cold and harsh, like it used to be with my father around? So I was mildly surprised when the door flew open, my mother screamed my name, and I was embraced tightly. Just mildly surprised.

"Draco! I've missed you so much! How are you, my little boy?"

I rolled my eyes, and sighed. It _had _been a while; we had almost no contact since I'd graduated from Hogwarts two years ago.

"Well Mother, remember Hermione Granger...?"

--

My mother was actually quite accepting of the whole getting-Hermione-pregnant thing. She was extremely excited to become a grandmother.

"I was getting a bit worried about you, Draco, worried that you wouldn't have any children at all," she said nonchalantly, in a conversational tone.

"Mother. I'm only twenty. Don't you think I had a bit of time?"

"Well, yes and no. I didn't think you'd ever find someone truly worthy of your love."

Her face softened, and she leaned toward me, grasping my hands tightly.

"All I'm saying is, make sure she's the one. It's a tad bit late to go back now."

My mouth twisted at her show of sarcasm, so I rolled my eyes and squeezed her hands back.

"I would love to stay longer Mother, but I need to get back to Hermione. Bed rest and all."

She smiled brightly at the mention of Hermione and her pregnant state. Gods, she really was excited.

"Good luck, Draco. Send Hermione and the baby my love."

I smiled, hugged her tightly, and left.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: so so so soooo sorry about the wait, major writer's block. to make up for it, longer chapter! yay! :)**

Hermione. Was. Getting. Big. She was roughly twenty weeks along; five months. And she was starting to show. I mean, I guess it looked huge because I was used to looking at an always-flat stomach; but now...yeah, there was a noticeable bump. Maybe I was overreacting...well, I knew I was, since there was still three, almost four more full months til the baby popped out. And boy, was she getting obnoxious.

"Draco! I need you to get me something!"

This was what I was hearing all morning. It. Was. ANNOYING. I mean, I gave the woman some credit. She _was_ pregnant, after all, which is one more thing I didn't have to do as a male. Also on that list was having monthly visits from Aunt Dot, getting frustrated over every pair of pants that didn't fit, and having to sit while peeing. That had to be the worst. So I sucked it up and went to see what Her Majesty wanted.

"Yes?"

"I'm hungry." She rubbed her bigger stomach, as if to emphasize this.

"And...?"

"I need food. Preferably pickles. Oh, and fried eggs. Those sound good right now. Maybe a few crumpets..."

I gritted my teeth.

"Hermione. You are pregnant. Not starving. You don't need to eat for fifty, just two. And especially not that kind of junk food. You need healthy, organic foods. I don't want my baby popping out humongous from monstrous weight gain while growing inside you."

That was a mistake to say.

"What are you saying?! ARE YOU CALLING ME FAT? I KNEW IT! I KNEW YOU WOULDN'T LOVE ME IF THIS HAPPENED!"

"'THIS'? YOU'RE CALLING BEING PREGNANT 'THIS'? YOU'RE PREGNANT. YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO GET BIGGER! AND I AM NOT CALLING YOU FAT!"

I started taking deep breaths, trying to calm down, while Hermione glared at me from the bed. Her face was getting red, and she closed her eyes, copying my example and breathing deeply.

"I need to get out. I'll be back soon." I started walking toward the doorway, and then I heard the one sound I didn't need at this moment. Hermione pleading.

"No, please Draco, I'm sorry, I'll be better, I know you didn't mean it, pleeeeease stay!"

"No," I whipped around, looking right into her eyes. "I won't stay. I've been waiting on you for the past three months, ever since whatever it was that happened at St. Mungo's. I need to get out. I'll be back later."

And just like that, I walked out.

--

Now, I was not abandoning her; I just need space. I need room to breathe, without having my name called every five seconds. She could deal without me for one day, call Potter or Girl Weasel if she needed help waddling to the bathroom.

I kept up with my breathing routines, and starting walking. I just needed to get away from that, that, thing. It wasn't my Hermione anymore; it was someone with her body, and her voice, spitting evil remarks out at every chance.

I wasn't watching where I was going, and smacked right into the one person I hadn't counted on seeing: Weasel.

"Watch it," I said gruffly, shouldering my way away.

"Malfoy? Draco Malfoy?" Evidently I wasn't going to walk away from this one.

"Yes?" I turned to face Weasley once again, and smirked. He and Lavender Brown had gotten married one year after we all got out of Hogwarts, and it looked like they were getting busy; there was two children in a stroller, and another one on the way, by the looks of Lavender's stomach. Of course, both of the children had red hair.

"How's Hermione? Is she still sick? How far along is she?" Being one of Hermione's best friends, and not talking to him for a bit must have made Weasley frantic. He was somewhat twitchy as he asked all this, and continuously looked at his feet, while the Missus kept rubbing her huge stomach.

"She's fine, about five months along. No, she's not sick," I added in a sarcastic tone, "she's perfectly fine."

"Well, erm, that's good. We'll just be going now..." And they walked away. Huh. Odd.

--

I walked, and walked, and walked, until I came to the gates of my father's house. My old house. Memories floated up, bringing back screams and fights and broken objects as well as bones. I took a deep breath, and pushed open the gates, walked up the path, and slammed the gold knocker of a serpent against the thick door. And waited.

A small, extremely bony house elf answered the door, and cringed at the light.

"How m-may I h-help you, good s-sir?" His stuttering looked like it was caused by the huge bruise right above his lungs. Anger filled my body, and my fists started to clench.

"Is Master Malfoy in now?" I asked coldly, not wanting to see my father, yet still curious.

The house elf's eyes darted left, then right, and it seemed to be deliberating inside it's small head.

"N-no, sir, s-so sorry. M-may I t-take a message?"

Something was going on, something I wasn't supposed to see, or know about. I pushed past the little elf, shaking it off when it grabbed onto my robes. I ran up the stairs, toward my parent's old bedroom, kicking open the door. Then I started to shake. A woman screamed, and wrapped her arms around her bare chest quickly, while my father reached for his wand.

I was quicker, and screamed at him as I pointed my wand toward his heart.

"Father, you greedy, disgusting, hopeless bastard. How could you do this? HOW?! YOU DON'T EVEN DESERVE TO BE CALLED A FATHER!" The woman let out a small sound, cannibalistic.

"Dear, dear Draco. Your father is a powerful man. Do not insult him. Horrible, accidents may occur." The woman was completely calm as she said this, recovered from the suprise before. Her wand was pointed at me, switching between my face and my chest.

"Pansy, do not be foolish. If we kill him, we will be found out." My father rubbed the woman's back as he said this. Pansy, for it was none other than Pansy Parkinson, closed her eyes, and let her wand droop.

"Go now, foolish boy. Take care of your child, and _Hermione_." Her voice snarled out Hermione's name, and then I remembered her. The color drained from my face, and I walked out of the house, running once my foot hit the cobblestone, Apparating outside the gates.

_Hermione, please be okay. Be okay._


	9. Chapter 9

_Hermione, please be okay. Please, don't be dead, don't be unconscious, don't be giving birth._

A million thoughts, some of the above, sprinted and chased themselves through my head. My thick, stupid head. How could I have just walked out on her like that? She was pregnant. She was hormonal. And she was hungry. _Stupid, selfish, ungrateful bastard. She loves you, and you love her, but you can only think of yourself at a time like this. _I hit my skull multiple times while speed-walking back to our flat, flipping between praying and scolding myself.

"Hermione?"

No answer.

"Baby, are you home?"

A slight moan. That was good. I ran upstairs, and found Hermione bent over the toilet, puking her guts out.

"Aw love, it's okay. You're going to be fine," I attempted to make her feel better, holding her hair back, rubbing the small of her back. She finally sat back against the wall, grabbed a towel and wiped her mouth.

"Urgh. So much for eating," she closed her eyes and leaned her head against the cool tile of the wall, absentmindedly stroking her stomach. _What was Pansy talking about? She's perfectly fine._

"Hermione?" I ventured, biting my lip as I tried to word the question right, "Have you been feeling sick? I mean, sicker than you usually are?"

Her perfect eyebrows raised over her closed eyes. "No, not that I recall," She paused. "Should I be?" she asked, concern evident in her voice.

"No, no, don't worry. Just silly Draco, worrying like a mother hen." I leaned over to her, kissed her forehead, and helped her up. "Let's get you back to bed. Free foot massage," I added, as she once again raised her eyebrows.

She smiled. "What would I do without you, Draco?"

--

Ah, another week serving Hermione. Yes, she does get on my nerves, but being the loving boyfriend that I am, I sucked it up. Majorly.

"Sweetie? Could you bring me another pillow? Please?" Now that she was about twenty-eight weeks along, she was sleeping a lot. 'A lot' as in twelve out of twenty-four hours. If we were lucky. Two months drags. By. So. Slowly. But on the bright side, if she was sleeping, she wasn't complaining. That was Heaven on Earth.

So I bit back my quite sarcastic reply, and brought her the fifty-seventh pillow of the week. She just couldn't get comfortable. And it was my fault...? Yes, I love the fact that we're bringing a child of our flesh and blood into this world, but it's like she's been on her period for seven months. Even though she hasn't. Urgh. _Happy thoughts. Just two more months. Two more. Eight weeks. Seventy-two more days. One thousand twenty-eight more hours. Oh joy. No, wait; she's sleeping half the day, so that's...only eight hundred sixty-two hours. Yes, oh yes. Thank you God._

It was all going to be okay. Just fine. Nothing to worry about.

Or so I thought.

--

"Draco! Sweetie, I need you!"

"Go back to sleep," I mumbled into my pillow, grabbing another pillow and shoving it over my head to deaden the sound of Hermione's voice, which was climbing a pitch every time she screamed. That signalled one thing: food.

"DRACO MALFOY! GET YOUR SCRAWNY ASS DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW!"

I sighed, and obediantely marched downstairs, where Hermione was currently stationed. Being downstairs meant no more sprinting leaps up the stairs to deliver food to the Bottomless One.

Scratching my hair as I walked down the last steps, I yawned, and asked, still yawning, "What would you like, dear?"

She pursed her lips, and aquirred her 'thinking face'. Then her face split into a giant smile.

"Could you please get me some crumpets, topped with some marmalade, a sprinkle of cheese on top, and...some steak?"

I could honestly feel my jaw unhinge. "Are you sure? That's a bit more than usual..." I said cautiously, forcefully pressing my jaw back.

She bristled at that. "Of course it's what I want. Wait," her face got worried, "I should be eating healthier, shouldn't I? Hmm...forget the last order. Twenty green grapes, a bit of whole grain pasta, grilled chicken and a salad."

Once again, my jaw dropped. I shook my head, and went off to the kitchen, muttering to myself.

**A/N: okay guys, getting down to the last months! could I please have some ideas for baby names? boy and girl welcome!**

xoxo  
silverxxprincess


	10. Chapter 10

Ah, one glorious month later: Hermione was still pregnant, getting bigger and bigger by day. She had this amazing glow around her, and she had barely any stretch marks. Her hair was beautiful, soft and long. She always had a shy, happy smile on her face whenever I found her rubbing her stomach. She'd been sleeping a lot lately, but that was to be expected; she was getting really big. Not fat, but her belly seemed to get bigger every ten minutes. We'd been to the Muggle doctors a few times, since Hermione thought they knew what they were doing. I just rolled my eyes and went with it. But of course, there were some downs to the ups. Her feet had swollen so badly, all she could wear were slippers. Her backed killed her with every movement, and she could barely sleep at night; she was very uncomfortable.

A good thing about the baby being due soon was the Hermione was now very happy. Not so snappy and sarcastic; more loving, more caring; more _maternal_, I suppose. It was her first baby, and I guess I was the practice baby until the real one arrived. It was all good, until she tried to tuck me into bed. Didn't work as well as she thought.

"Sweetie?"

I mumbled something unintelligent back.

"Sweetheart?"

I pulled the pillow over my head.

"**Draco**!"

I opened a bleary eye and glanced at the clock. It was 1:10 in the morning. "Yes, baby?"

"Er...somethings happening."

"'Something's happening.' With what?" I mumbled.

"The baby."

That fully woke me up.

I sat up, and muttered _Lumos._ My wand lit up, as did the lights in the room. Yeah, I was good.

"Okay...so what exactly is happening?" I asked, turning to face Hermione and her big belly. Her face was white, which alarmed me. She didn't say anything, just took my hand and pressed it to her stomach. I felt a sudden tightening. All the blood rushed out of my face.

"Are you...are you having contractions?" I whispered, my hand still on her belly.

I heard her swallow, and she nodded, quietly saying, "Yes, I think so."

We stayed still for about fifteen more seconds, and then it sunk in: _my baby's ready to come out._ I jumped up.

"Hermione, can you stand? Wait, no, don't stand," I said, changing my mind quickly; there were so many thoughts jumping around, it was impossible to figure one thing out. _St. Mungo's. She has to go to St. Mungo's._ "I can Floo us there. NO! Don't move! Just...just wait. Let me get some clothes on!" I was partially talking to her, partially gibbering to myself.

"Don't yell at me! I'm about to have a baby!"

"I'M SORRY!" I yelled back to her, trying to find a clean shirt and some pants. "Here," I added, tossing a sweater to her. I saw her carefully get to her feet, leaning against the bed, and shrug into the sweater, buttoning the only button that would reach the other side.

"Wait," Something dawned on me. "Has your water broke yet?"

"Uh...should it have?" She too looked puzzled. I tried to figure it out; she was having contractions, yet they didn't look to be painful. Her water hasn't broke yet. So was the baby coming or not?

"I'll Floo us there anyway..." I muttered to myself, hoisting Hermione into my arms, bridal style, and slowly walking out the bedroom door, down the hall, to the parlor, and onward to the fireplace. I grabbed some green powder, flung it into the empty grate, and yelled, "St. Mungo's, Maternity Ward!", my voice shooting up a few octaves as the importance of the situation slammed into me, just as we started to spin around in the swirling green flames.

--

_My gods, this chair couldn't possibly be anymore disgusting, not uncomfortable, _was my first thought as I opened my eyes after a bit of a rest. The Healers in the Maternity Ward had taken one look at Hermione, in her very pregnant state, and ushered us down a corridor, into a pale yellow hospital suite. Hermione was currently sleeping, her face troubled. The Healer-in-Charge, Digby Lorwe, had reassured both Hermione and I that she was not going into labor now, she was just having Braxton-Hicks contractions, nothing to worry about. But we weren't going to take chances; we booked an extended stay, wanting to be near in case anything did happen.

And, it meant I didn't have to get her food; some one else did. Ha.

Rolling my shoulders, I pondered going to sleep in the other bed, in the next room. But what if Hermione woke up, what if she panicked, not knowing where I was, scared herself into labor? Nah. I'll stay in this room. Just in case.

--

Two hours later, Hermione was sitting up in bed, doing what else but reading a book. I opened the curtains a bit, to let a little more light into the room, and flipped on the radio, sitting down in a nice cozy recliner, shaking open the Daily Prophet that had been dropped off while we were both sleeping. About five minutes later, I heard Hermione yawn, and looked over the paper to see her stretch. Healer Lorwe had ordered Hermione to be kept on bed rest, no walking around, only for bathroom visits.

"Draco? Could you help me up please?" I rolled my eyes, and folded my paper, walked over to her bed and sat on the side. My hand gently carressed her cheek, and she leaned into my touch. "What do you need baby?"

"I think a bubble bath would be nice," she murmured, her eyes closed.

"I think we can do that," I whispered, and pulled my hand away. She looked a bit disappointed as I helped her up, and I realized we really hadn't touched each other, in a comforting, loving way, for months. It was just little touches to her belly, rubbing her feet. Nothing with any compassion, really.

Hermione waddled to the bathroom, waiting for me to start running the taps. I turned, and helped her out of her nightdress she had started wearing. My eyes roamed her body. Her breasts were bigger than usual, filled with milk and the extra weight she had gained. Her belly protruded out so far, I couldn't wrap my arms fully around her. Her hips were a bit fuller than usual, but she still looked wonderful. _Oh dear,_ her poor ankles; what had once been tiny little joints connecting her leg and foot was now a swollen mass of tight skin. "Oh, baby," I whispered, as I helped her into the tub and added some bubbles, grabbing a few folded towels and placing them under her ankles, trying to elevate them to help the swelling.

She leaned back against the tub as the basin filled, bubbles slowly covering her up. I saw her eyes close, and decided to stay near in case she fell asleep.

"Sweetie?" She murmured, reaching out her hand.

"I'm right here baby," I whispered, taking her hand. She guided my hand toward her swollen stomach, surrounded by pink and blue bubbles. I closed my eyes as I felt her relax, then we both suddenly stiffened; the baby had kicked. It hadn't kicked until now.

Our faces were mirrored in awe, staring at the mass that kept our baby safe. "It's really in there," she whispered, tears shining in her eyes.

"Yeah," I said, just as quietly, "Our baby really is in there. And soon it'll be out here, in our arms."

--

I left Hermione for a second, walking to the spare room with the bed, wanting to grab some food off the Room Service cart.

I dropped the plate as I heard her scream.

--

It was a scream of pain, total pain; I sprinted back to the bathroom to find Hermione clutching at her stomach, her teeth clenched together so as to not scream again.

"Baby, what's wrong?" My voice was worried, and I knew it.

"Con...Contractions. B-b-bad ones," She whimpered, grabbing my hand. Oh gods, oh gods, OH GODS, NO. She was a month early!

"Uh, baby I'll be right back," I hurriedly finished, her look of fear evident, "I have to get a Healer. Baby, you'll be fine. Don't worry, it's going to be fine," I babbled on, running to the door, out in the corridor, and to the Healer's Station. A petite blond witch smiled at me.

"How can I help you, sir?"

"My..my...baby...contractions...coming..."

"Sir?"

"MY BABY IS COMING!"

"Oh! Oh, well now, let me see..." She ran with me back to our suite, kneeling down by the tub Hermione was currently clutching.

"Ma'am, how far along are you? Ma'am?" Her voice was high with fear; she was obviously new to this.

"Uh...um...OUCH!...OH GODS, oh no, ohhh..." Hermione's voice faded off.

"She's only eight months along! It's too early!"

"Sir, she'll be fine, please calm down,"

"IT'S TOO EARLY!"

"SIR!" The little witch screamed at me, pointing her wand, "If this baby wants to come, it's going to come. And if it wants to come now, it's gonna come now." She wiped the sweat off her brow. "Okay...I need the Healer-in-Charge...some potions...can she stand?" She barked at me, and continued muttering when I shook my head no. She ran out the door, hopefully to get some help.

"Sweetie? D-draco?"

"Yes, yes, my ba--lover?" I couldn't call her _baby_, not when she was about to **have** one.

"It hurts," She whimpered again, holding onto my hand tight. I leaned forward, brushed her hair back from her forehead, and kissed her head shakily. "It's okay, shh, it's okay honey," I bit my lip as she closed her eyes; she just started having contractions about seven minutes ago. If it hurt that bad, then something was definitely wrong.


	11. Chapter 11

Only half an hour had passed since Hermione started having contractions; they were getting worse and worse, and none of the Healers could figure out why. There were three Maternity Healers clustered around Hermione's bed; together, all four of us, we had carefully lifted her out of the tub, and now she was writhing in agony, clutching at her stomach, moaning in pain every few seconds, sweat plastering her hair to her face.

I was laying on the small bed next to her, my arms wrapped around her, trying to pass as much comfort and love into her as I could. It was very hard for me to watch this; to watch my angel in pain, to see our child causing her this pain.

"Miss, do you know if your water broke yet?" One of the Healers had asked hesitantly. His bushy grey eyebrows had been scrunched together in confusion.

"Well," she had grunted, "I am not exactly sure, seeing as how I was SITTING IN A TUB FULL OF WATER!" she had yelled at him. Needless to say, he stayed away and kept his questions to himself after that.

Hermione was sprawled against me, having just experienced another contractions. She was breathing deeply, and her eyes were closed, as if to ward away the pain.

"Draco," She whispered, turning her head so only I could hear, "If I don't make it--"

"No." I said firmly, squeezing her hands tight, "Don't you dare say that. You will make it, and so will our baby." She smiled briefly, then grimaced as another sweep of pain swept her body.

"Can't you give her something to take away the pain?" I asked desperately, looking from Healer to Healer.

"No, we can't. We don't want to risk it getting to the baby, and possibly impairing it," Stated a motherly-looking Healer, wringing her hands together and nervously tapping her foot.

Hermione whimpered, and I held her tighter. Suddenly, her eyes popped open, as did her mouth, in a perfect _O_ of pain; there was blood on the sheets, lots of blood.

"Wh-what's happening?" I asked, my voice small. No one answered. "I said, what in Merlin's name is HAPPENING?!"

It seemed my high, frightened (but manly) voice brought the Healers back to life. They sprang forward, grabbing towels and blankets, one sprinting out into the hall to get a witch to help. Healer Lowre positioned himself between Hermione's legs, pointing his wand, about to mutter a spell--but then stopped.

"WHY AREN'T YOU DOING ANYTHING?" I screamed.

"I-I-I don't think I should do any magic," he said, very quietly. "We don't know exactly know what we're dealing with." Hermione let out a low groan of pain at previous statement, then she screamed as another contraction started. Tears were pouring down her face, tangling in her hair, leaving glittery tracks upon her skin.

"Hermione," said Lowre sternly, "I'm going to need you to push when I say so. Can you do that?"

"Noo, please don't, don't make me, it hurts, so badly," Hermione gasped, clutching the soaked sheets.

"Do you want your baby out? Then you need to push." Hermione nodded, and clamped her eyes shut, her face strained. Then she exhaled deeply, and pushed again. "Good, you're doing great," Lowre encouraged. I buried my face in her hair, willing the pain to stop for her. She inhaled sharply, and pushed. "I see a head! You're crowning, good!" Lowre yelled, while Hermione moaned loudly in pain; it sounded like she was being pulled apart, which I suppose she was. "Shoulders! Almost there! Good girl, little bit more!" Hermione suddenly screamed in pain, so much pain in her scream, it made me shake. She took a quick, deep breath, and pushed hard; collapsing against me as our baby finally came into this world, screaming its little head off.

--

The witch who was summoned pointed her wand at the blue umbilical cord, neatly severing and cleaning it in one go, and wrapping the baby loosely in a blanket.

"It's a girl," She said smiling, handing our little girl to Hermione, who was crying and laughing with me.

"What should we na--" Hermione's question was cut short by a cry of pain. The witch quickly took the baby back, and raised her eyebrows, obviously shocked, at the Healer. "It's okay," He said, "Probably just the placenta. Nothing to worry abou--" He looked back between Hermione's legs. His jaw dropped, as did he. White-faced, he looked up at us. "Hermione, you're going to have to push again. There's another baby."

--

My brain wasn't comprehending this. Was this guy serious? How? None of the Muggle doctors had said _anything_ about us having twins. "Are you sure?" I asked, shocked. He nodded. Hermione clenched her teeth, sucked in a breath through her nose, and pushed. Really hard.

--

Ten minutes had passed, and the second baby still wasn't out. Hermione was resting against me, breathing deeply, in and out, in and out. We still hadn't held our first baby for more than a few seconds. Said baby was sleeping in the next room.

Suddenly Hermione sucked in a breathe. _Here we go again_.

"Come on Hermione. You've got to get that baby out of there." This was said by Healer Lowre, who was really starting to bother me. Just a tad. Hermione nodded, her eyes closed tight, her hands finding mine. She filled her lungs with air, and bore down hard, determined to get the baby out, even if she was completely exhausted. She started to squeak a bit, signaling pain, but continued pushing, wanting the baby to get out in the world. She let go of her breathe, took a quick breathe in, and kept pushing.

"Come on...wait...a head! Come on Hermione, couple more pushes...Shoulders!" The Healer looked gleeful that this was almost over. Hermione gasped as the second baby slid out of her. A second, definitely smaller, baby, whose feeble cry barely penetrated the room. The witch cut the cord again, cleaned it, and wrapped the baby up. Instead of giving it to us though, she glanced at the Healer, who nodded, and walked from the room, carrying our child with her.

"It's a girl," The Healer whispered, as he walked from the room.

--

"What do you mean, 'she's too frail'? What's wrong with my child?!" I was yelling at the Healer, who was looking quite frightened. He kept glancing back at the nursery, where my little girl was being kept in an odd, plastic box with tubes running in. I was scared. I had one healthy baby girl, and...well, apparently a 'frail' baby girl.

"She's smaller than the other," _obviously_, "So she needs to be kept in the incubator until her breathing and heart rate get stronger."

He bowed his head. "I'm sorry, but she may not make it." I closed my eyes, and when I opened them, he was gone. Good.

--

I went back to the room, taking slow, scared steps. Millions of thoughts chased themselves around in my mind. I needed sleep. I needed to escape this nightmare.

Hermione was already sleeping, the small bassinet where the elder baby lay right next to the bed, Hermione's hand resting in the little crib, next to our daughter. _Our daughter. Your daughters._ I sat on the edge of the bed, and did something I hadn't done in a while; prayed. Then I curled up next to Hermione, my angel, and my little angel, who had no name yet. And I slept, a deep, peaceful sleep.

--

"Raechel."

"Raechel what? She needs a middle name," Hermione stated, looking down at the bigger baby in her arms and smiling. It was the next day, and we were trying to pick out names for our babies.

"Raechel Lee? Raechel Lynn? Raechel Annabel?" Hermione's eyes lit up at the last one.

"I like that one. Raechel Annabel," Hermione sang, tickling the blonde baby.

"Raechel Annabel it is. What about Zoey's middle name?"

"Hmm. Zoey Jordan? Zoey Anna? Zoey Anne? Zoey Jane?"

"I like either Zoey Anne or Zoey Jane. One of those."

"Zoey Anne then."

"Raechel Annabel and Zoey Anne. Perfect," Hermione said, looking up at me, smiling, pure love in her eyes. We signed the birth certificates ten minutes later.

--

Three days later they took Zoey out of the incubator, and gave her to her Mommy and Daddy to hold for the first time. She had a head of thick, straight, somehow red, hair, and beautiful blue-green eyes, while Raechel had curly, fine, white-blonde hair and deep blue eyes. Upon seeing Zoey's red hair, I had asked Hermione if she was sure I was the father. "Are you sure you didn't shag Weasley instead of me?" I asked, skeptical. "Trust me, I didn't. You're much better looking than he is. And you look better naked," she winked, and looked back to the babies. "They're perfect," I whispered, staring at the beautiful children sleeping in our arms. We were going home tomorrow. Going home as a complete family.

The Healers never figured out why Zoey was smaller; but she turned out to be perfectly fine, obviously petite, much like her mother.

"I guess this is karma. We fell in love, messed up, and needed something to bring us back together," She whispered to me, touching her lips to mine. "I guess it is," I agreed, murmuring around her lips.

This was where I wanted to be in life. Sitting with my girls, my girls that I loved with all my heart. My three little angels, all gifts, all treasures. All mine.


	12. Chapter 12

**Eleven years later: **

Zoey and Raechel stood mesmerized on platform nine and three quarters, gazing wide-eyed at all the witches and wizards, all the owls and frogs and cats, the steam from the scarlet Hogwarts Express making people disappear and reappear where they hadn't been before.

"Mummy?" Zoey asked quietly, pulling on Hermione's robe sleeve.

"Yes, buggy?"

"I'm scared to leave. I don't wanna leave. I wanna stay with you and Daddy. I'm gonna miss you," she stated, tears making her blue-green eyes shimmer, "And what if I get into the wrong house? What if Rae and I are separated? What if I don't make any friends?" She sniffled, and bit her lip.

"Zoey. Look at me," Hermione crouched down to her level, carefully maneuvering the sleeping toddler slung across her chest, "You will be just fine. The first time you walk into the Great Hall, and see all those people, yeah, you're going to be scared. But you know what? There's about a hundred other kids, all your age, all feeling the same as you. You'll be fine; besides, you don't want to miss out on Hogwarts. You'll learn more there than you could ever learn if you stayed home." By now, the petite redhead was wiping her tears away, smiling slightly.

Draco, upon hearing their talk, added, "Besides, if you stay home, we're locking you in the basement and writing you out of the will." Zoey's eyes went wide, and he winked at her. "Just kidding. Seriously, after a few weeks there you won't ever want to go home again. The food's amazing. Almost as good as my cooking." A cough from Hermione made him roll his eyes. "Okay, almost as good as your Mum's cooking." With that, he picked Zoey up, and spun her around, giggling with her when her new school robes flew over her head. Draco kissed her on the tip of her nose, and grabbed the other twin.

"And what about you, my brave bunny? Aren't you scared at all?" Raechel shook her head sharply, and continued to twirl around, soaking up the sights, sounds, and smells.

"She's gonna be in Slytherin for sure," Draco stated, gazing at Raechel with soft eyes.

"Nah, Ravenclaw or Gryffindor."

"Oh really, now?" He asked, cocking an eyebrow at her.

"Mhmm hmm." Hermione answered, lifting the slowly-awakening toddler to her shoulder. "And what about you, Parker? Are you a brave Gryffindor, a sly Slytherin, an intelligent Ravenclaw, or a kind Hufflepuff?"

"Hupplepup," He murmured back sleepily, raising his tiny fists and rubbing his eyes, shaking his auburn curls at the noise, and sticking his thumb in his mouth. Hermione, Draco, Zoey, and Raechel all laughed.

A shrill whistle sounded, and a look of alarm spread rapidly across Zoey's face, while Raechel's eyes lit up with excitement.

"Wh...what does that mean?" Asked Zoey, her voice shaking slightly.

"It's okay, it means you have ten minutes until you leave. Go on, better find a compartment now, make some new friends, smile!" Hermione encouraged, sweeping her eldest children toward the train, both lugging their heavy trunks behind them.

Raechel turned around first, and hugged her mother tightly, giving her a quick peck on the cheek before running to her father and her little brother, kissing them both, then sprinting back to the train, where she disappeared. Zoey had her face buried in her mother's robes, trying to memorize the smell of her; she wouldn't see Mummy until Christmas Break.

"I'm gonna miss you, Mum," whispered Zoey, small tears making her hair stick to her face.

"It's okay Zoey, I'm gonna miss you too," Hermione said back, holding her small daughter tight to her before kissing her forehead and letting her briefly kiss her father and baby brother.

"Bye Mum, bye Daddy, bye Parker!" She said, grabbing her trunk and pulling it onto the train. She ran to the nearest window, and waved as the train started to move, gaining speed by the second, her parents were now just a blur.

--

"Hmm...you do realize we have to do this again in six years, and one more time in nine years?" Hermione asked Draco as they walked out of King's Cross.

"Poor Rheanna, Zo and Rae will tell her horrible stories," Draco replied, referring to their five-year-old daughter, who was spending the day at the Potters.

"Nah. She's a smart girl; she'll certainly ignore them, probably pull sick pranks on them while they're sleeping."

"True," Draco said thoughtfully, shrugging his shoulders. He grabbed Hermione's hand, handed Parker to her, and pulled them both tight, Apparating to their house in mere seconds.

--

That night, right after Hermione put Parker and Rheanna to bed, she received an owl from Hogwarts. It was a letter from the twins.

"What houses?" asked Draco, coming up behind her and wrapping his strong arms around her small waist.

Hermione smirked, and turned to Draco, kissing the corner of his mouth, whispering, "Gryffindor," triumphantly.


End file.
